Chapter 3 - I CALLED THE POLICE ON MY HUSBANDI called 911 at 8:31.
Not because Daniel told me.
Because Andrew began pounding on the bedroom door.
“Open the door.”
I did not answer.
“Cadence.”
I stepped backward.
Then:
“You’re seriously locking me out of my own bedroom?”
Our bedroom.
Not the point.
I called.
The dispatcher kept me on the line.
Andrew stopped pounding when he heard sirens.
By the time officers arrived, Bonnie and Harold had left.
Mason too.
Gemma stayed because she was too intoxicated to drive.
Andrew told police:
“We had a marital argument.”
I told them:
“He slapped me hard enough to make me hit the wall.”
My lip was still bleeding slightly.
My cheek had begun swelling.
Gemma sat in the kitchen with her arms folded.
Officer Jensen asked:
“Did you see Andrew strike Cadence?”
Gemma looked at her brother.
Then me.
Then:
“Yes.”
Andrew’s face collapsed.
Not because she lied.
Because she didn’t.
He was arrested on suspicion of domestic assault.
No dramatic speech.
No police beating him.
Hands behind his back.
Rights.
Questions.
Procedure.
He looked at me as they walked him out.
“Cadence, don’t do this.”
I said:
May you like
“I didn’t.”
That was the only satisfying line I got all night.
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